


Shattered Figments

by WhiteWolfLegend



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dark Thoughts, M/M, Male Slash, Post-Reichenbach, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 08:14:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteWolfLegend/pseuds/WhiteWolfLegend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John thought he lost all hope when Sherlock jumped. "There's nothing more for me - lead me away." He muttered as he saw the man cock the gun. A smirk on his face as he waits for the sweet embrace of his Sherlock. But his eyes caught the familiar piercing grey ones, one he had seen so often but these were different. The were real. Drabble SLASH</p><p>This is a WIP so don't forget to Subscribe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know, I know ANOTHER GOD DAMN FIC! But you all know what I am like. I am so burnt out on my Twilight fics and I'm trying to take a step away from Twi and give my brain a break.
> 
> This fic is mainly for me, at my pace. It is also a drabble fic. A drabble is an extremely short work of fiction of exactly one hundred words in length, not necessarily including the title. But I think it will be anywhere between 200-1k in words.

 

**3** **rd** **POV**

The scream that rippled through the house had Mrs Hudson and the nearly ever present Lestrade up from their night sleep. Both looking at the clock and sighing, for the last month since – since Sherlock died – Watson had been having nightmares, always at one in the morning.

"SHERLOCK!" John's voice rang out through 221b baker street, his body thrashing as the nightmare plagued him.

Always the same.

John was in front of St Bartholomew's Hospital, his eyes cast upwards to Sherlock. The fear churning in him as the pavement below seemed to latch on his feet.

" _Goodbye John…"_

It was then as he watched helpless as the man he considered his best friend, the man he _loves_ fall to the earth, his arms and legs thrashing and his coat billowing out from behind him. When the sickening crack reaches his ears only is he able to move.

It was then when he finally makes it to Sherlock does everything shatter, his mind fracturing into pieces. Blood had smeared the pavement, his black mop of curls clinging to his head stickily. Stickily was that even a word?

"Holmes!" the name came out of his lips as he grasped the wrist for a pulse; finding none. That's where the dream ended, looking into the lifeless eyes of his love; the white pristine skin covered in garnet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Lestrade and Mrs Hudson stood outside the door, their eyes worried as they watched John look around the room blankly before laying back down and just not existing.

"He's getting worse." Mrs Hudson whispers, wrapping the dressing gown around her more tightly as she pushed the tears at bay.

Lestrade couldn't help but agree; he was indeed worried. He was the first person that got the call about Sherlock and his first thoughts were of John. It took him a painstakingly amount of time to get there, but when he did the scene almost killed him. Before him was a crowd, he could see the blood but no Sherlock – so they would have taken him – it was John that almost killed him. His eyes were distraught and in disbelief; confirming that the good doctor had witnessed the fall of Sherlock. The blood was another factor, how it seemed to be on Johns hands as he cried for his Sherlock; _his Sherlock._

Ever since Lestrade brought him home all he did was lie in Sherlock's room or just stare at the chair by the fire. He barely spoke and when he did it was in a fit of fright or to a hallucination. He was able to bring him out onto cases every now and then, sometimes seeing a glint of life before the grief took him.

"I will try to get him out of the house, maybe there is a case for him to come too. I know it makes him worse but I think he needs to be around the familiarity that is Holmes." Greg tells the woman next to him.

They had grown close to one another. Friends almost instead of the acquaintance because she was Sherlock and John's landlady; he was pretty much living here these days and it would drive him mad right next to John if he had no one to talk to.

"That's good dear. I-I'm going back to bed." She whispers brokenly as the sobs threated to break once more as the man in front of her breaks out into whimpers of another dream.

Lestrade nodded and big goodnight before going back to the couch, he felt wrong sleeping here but he didn't want to go in John's room. With a sigh he closed his eyes, cursing every fibre of Sherlock Holme's being as another cry filled the silence.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm a soldier - wounded so I must give up the fight  
> There's nothing more for me - lead me away...  
> Or leave me lying here

John woke up with his breath catching in his throat, hand outstretched as he tried to grab Sherlock from his dreams. Only to see him disappear as the morning light floats in through the opened curtains. Grief and disappointment rippled through him, a sob breaking through his teeth and from his chest before hiding it with a cough.

He knew that his dreams of Sherlock were due to the act he was in _his_ room and was surrounded by the only scent that Sherlock seemed to have. John couldn't quite describe the torturous heavenly scent; but he didn't want to leave the only sanctuary he had left. One that was ALL Sherlock Holmes and nothing else; there was even an experiment still in the corner of his room.

"Glad you're up." Greg states from the door with a yawn, he was already dressed for work and a coffee in his hands. Eyes worried as he watched the good doctor wipe away the terror sweat from the nightmares.

"I have a case, I would like for you to come. Maybe you can help; we've been stuck on it for a few days now." Lestrade let out a sigh as he saw the flinch and the familiar hollow look darken on the good doctor's face.

Though he wasn't expecting the reply he got. "Okay." It was soft but Lestrade still heard it and left to give the good doctor some privacy. Today wasn't going to be a good day, dread already filled his very core. Something just didn't sit right.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

John stared blankly a head as the streets of London passed him by. He was in the car with Lestrade on a way to a crime scene, a fresh one. At first he was weary leaving to help them, and then he needed to for some reason or another. It was when they were half way there to the last crime did a call come through. There was another.

It took them less than ten minutes to get to the crime scene and John couldn't help but let out a slight sigh. There was no thrill or excitement left in him, there was nothing about cases that could br…. _It was always Sherlock you fool. You only did this for him; he made you normal, made you feel whole and excited once more…_ his brain whispers causing the good doctor to stop; just before the yellow tape.

"It'll be 'kay John." Lestrade whispers as he ducks under the tape. With a sigh, he slowly follows suite.

"His name is Mathew Anderson." He heard Donovan inform.

Instantly his eyes scan the body unblinkingly, the silvery blonde hair curling and darkening before his very eyes.

_What do you see John?_

The voice of Sherlock asks from his side, but he knew with a quick glance he wasn't there. This was another reason he stopped coming to the crime scenes, to helping with cases. Sherlock was there, always there pointing out the obvious facts; making snide comments they were memories of course; merging with his brain to help cope.

"He took a blunder over the top an…" Sally trailed off as Lestrade's eyes flicker to the left, this caught hers and those paying attention to them interest.

John was aware of the stares he was receiving, aware of the hitch breaths they made in wait for what was to come. Flashes of Sherlock's fall though were all he saw; all he could focus on as it repeated over and over in his head. His resolve broke and the world once again crumbled around him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"John?" Greg asks hesitantly as he watched his friend crumble and withdrawal. He held back the flinch but casting a glare at those who dare made any noise of horror at the look the doctor now had.

It was one of utter horror, heartbreak and something else that it shakes the DI and all who could see to the core.

"I think I will go home now." John mutters blandly.

Greg's chest clenches as he goes to take the doctor home, "No." It was one word, one that made everything in him stop and shudder. There was a hard edge to the shorter man before him, one that only a Captain in the army can sustain.

"I'll come back around after work, I'll see you then." Greg sighs in defeat; only to blanch when the doctor turns, his eyes blank but a smirk pulls at his lips. It was one that made him worried; one that held something secretive.

"Sure." The doctor chuckles before striding down the street; his back stiff and the limp in his leg noticeable.

"It's been a month." Sally sighs sharply causing the Detective Inspector to whirl around in rage but bit his tongue.

 _Yes, but that man was madly in love with Sherlock Holmes, you will never understand you bitter harpy._ Greg thought bitterly before barking out his orders.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

John walked aimlessly; he didn't care where he went. He needed to leave before the world tilted once more and he found himself losing control.

He tried hard to bring back his ability to disconnect from when he was in the army but it did no good. Sherlock Holmes had crumbled everything, yanked away all the restraint he kept with a simple – no not simple – with a horrific jump. He replaced it with numbness, something John found himself hating. He'd rather be agonisingly full of grief but there was nothing.

_Why do you do this John?_

John sighed before stopping and sitting on the bench. He was surprised he found himself on the bench at the park near Baker Street. Even more surprised that the sun had set and he found himself alone in the darkness.

_Why John?_

"Because," John sighed before turning to look at the flat grey eyes. He knew that the man before him was a figment of his shattered mind. There was no emotion, no spark that was simply Sherlock Holmes. "Because. I miss you and it hurts too much."

The apparition did nothing but stare blankly. John hated these, he hated it because his words rung in his head. _You bloody machine!_ And that's what the figment was before him, emotionless and cold. John longed for the emotion, longed for his friend; the man who saved him from the darkness and… and placed him back in it.

A startled sharp laugh left his lips, the sob catching in his throat as he looked up at the clear sky. John was a lost man in the darkened maze, no light to help him out; not anymore. With another sharp laugh he got up, a smirk tugging at his lips as he walked home; determination filling him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

John had arrived at 221b Baker Street rather quickly, his shoulders pulled back and his frame straight. He was back to the soldier he once was. The determination was still there and he knew that life wasn't ever going to be easy again. Today was the last straw and he would never be Doctor Watson again, that humble man was gone. In his wake was Captain Watson, the shattered man.

"John." The voice of Mycroft didn't startle him; John simple stared straight ahead; poised. This bothered Mycroft greatly; it was something he was not use to from the good doctor. He had seen him three times in person since his brother left and could handle the dead stares but this was different.

The eyes were hollow. How can you describe someone who just looked empty, the eyes that once held kindness and emotion now were dark and sunken in the taut face? It – as much as he wished not to even think – unnerved him.

"Mister Holmes." The voice was flat.

Mycroft physically blanched, though it went unnoticed as he heard the voice of someone else. Surely the man before him was someone else, someone who is disguising himself as Doctor John Watson. But the man before him is indeed John Watson that he had come to care for greatly, just never admitted. Believe all you want, Mycroft Holmes was not as heartless he made everyone seemed to be. In fact he was sure that the man before him would become his brother in law one day.

_Oh Sherlock, you have truly broken the man…_

* * *

**_A/N: I decided to go with something different than the usual suicide attempt. John Watson is indeed broken but has placed himself in hell as the only way to cope._ **


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Captain Watson stood, his posture stiff and straight as he stared blankly but taking in all information. He was standing in front of his superior and any form of slack or lack of respect would be dealt with a punishable offence.

He couldn't help but notice though of the slight paling of Mycroft Holmes's face. It was a look that made him from for a split second before locking down on his emotions and body movements. He could feel the thump-thump-thump and the echoes of his former self in his mind, in the very deep depths of his mind. They were pleading to be let out, to end the darkness but the soldier would carry on.

"What happened, Captain?" Mycroft asks steady, he knew the man before him wasn't John after all.

John cocked his head to the side with a slight confused frown before answering. "What do you mean? Do you mean about the crime scene I was asked to go to; the man had jumped after he had been drugged of hallucinogens and then tricked into seeing the things he feared the most? Or the fact that I am not the soft comforting, kind hearted John Watson you knew?"

Mycroft blinked once and then twice before nodding, gesturing calmly with his hand to explain.

"I just simply reverted. John couldn't handle the stress and I am what the war made me." He replied steadily.

The unease was back in Mycroft's stomach. Sherlock's going have a lot to fix when he returns, maybe; just maybe that Moriaty won after all. No matter how much his brother glances over it, John Watson was his heart and the man before him was a shell, _transport,_ as Sherlock would say.

The heart was broken and burned. And this worried Mycroft extensively.

* * *

**A/N: *gasp* so are you liking the new twist? And I want Mycroft to not be a** **_machine_ ** **as everyone makes him out to be for some reason.**

**please review**

**E**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"So, tell me Captain Watson what is your goal now; your mission?" Mycroft asks, his words sounding fairly odd on his tongue.

John peered out behind the mask and the cage he was locked in. He hated it in here, his own form of hell. It was locked with Sherlock; everything Sherlock and all he wanted was for it to end.

"I wish to go back to duty, do something." Was the reply his treacherous body made, but it was all a lie.

Mycroft looked closely at the man before him, the stance, and the stoic facial features. But it was the eyes that gave his lie away. Sherlock had always told him that John's eyes reflected his inner core and could see into his soul. At first he didn't believe him, he was worried that his brother spouted such things but looking now he believed.

"Hum, I will not permit you to go back to war." Mycroft hummed watching as the soldier tensed. "But you can help me on some cases. You can be a body guard for myself if you need to do something." It was a shocking surprise for the both of them but Mycroft wouldn't allow the man before him back to war. He had promised Sherlock to look after him after all and he was determined to keep this promise.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

John was surprised; he knew he wouldn't be able to go back. He had hoped of course, he missed the rush; the adrenalin that it brought and without Sherlock and the cases they did it was gone.

"Okay. I can do that." He states, his eyes still straight ahead as he observed the taller man before him.

"Good. Keep yourself free for now Captain. You will receive my call when I need you." Mycroft states standing, his eyes roaming the place for possible spots for the camera's he will be putting up. Though the man before him maybe stoic and now that of a soldier he knew the old John was still locked deep inside and it wouldn't be long for the man to break completely.

"Yes, sir." John states while giving a quick habitual salute.

"You know Sherlock would want…" Mycroft trails off as he sees the torment swirling in the now sapphire eyes. "You know how to reach me if you ever need me." He states instead before swiftly leaving 221b

"Oh Mycroft, is he okay? The poor dear has been cooped up in the flat for too long." Mrs Hudson states from the bottom of the steps, her hands wringing as she stares past the elder Holmes brother.

"I am unsure; best not bother him for a while. I will be visiting more often to keep an eye on him. He's in no risk of harm but - he isn't himself." Mycroft told the mothering woman calmly, hopefully his words would help her fret less but he doubted it.

"Okay; the poor dear. Ever since Sherlock… he's been a mess. I can hear him screaming his name at night." Mrs Hudson utters without thinking before looking up at the blank face before her. Though she was not smart like the man before her or could deduce things like the Holmes brothers she knew the man was upset and worried. "Oh, I'm so sorry… that was so rude of me. Don't mind me Mycroft." She whispers sorrowful.

"It is alright Mr's Hudson, there will be some people coming when John leaves to place some camera's in. it would be best if John didn't know. Good day Mrs Hudson." With that Mycroft left, his eyes darting up to the windows to see the curtain flick with movement just as the car door closed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: How are you liking it so far?
> 
> Please Review
> 
> E


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

John swiftly turned on his foot as Mycroft got in his car and scanned the room. The whole place seemed saturated, there was very little colour left.

 _"BORING! DULL! I AM BORED!”_ A brilliant colourful Sherlock screamed as he shot the wall. The bullets going right though him as if he wasn’t there.

 _"Can you pass me my phone?”_ The voice was from the kitchen, the scene shimmering and cracking.

 _"You're an army doctor. Any good? Seen a lot of injuries, then? Violent deaths?”_ He stood at the door now, looking down at the empty chair. This was getting too much.

_“I said 'Can you pass me a pen?'.” The voice utters from behind him. Flat and distracted._

_Remember him! DO NOT FORGET!_ The voice of his inner self screams as it shoves more memories to the forefront. The room was swarming with colours; along with the voice and the continuing vibrating scenes of Sherlock Holmes.

“ENOUGH!” John roars as he clenches his eyes and hands shut. “You couldn’t handle it remember, you brought be forth. DEAL WITH IT!” John roars before his hands grasp the table and flipping it. Sending objects and paper everywhere in the kitchen, destroying the scenes that his mind forced him to see.

“Please, I miss him too. Just let me deal with it.” Captain Watson whispers stiffly, quiet to his own ears as he lets the sobs take him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Sherlock leaned against the alleyway heaving, his body struggling to take in the air as he chased after one of the snipers that Moriarty had placed on one of his friends. He had found a clue that brought him to New York and he hasn't stopped hunting since, he couldn't stop until all three were gone while Mycroft unravelled the web he had left behind.

He would have himself done the job of unravelling the web or Moriarty but there was something that screamed at him not to. Something that forced himself not to do that and to let Mycroft do it, Sherlock didn't know what it was but he listened.

A beep echoed the darkened alley, one that caught Sherlock's attention immediately. It was his phone, the one his brother only contacted in dire emergency.

_You best hurry Sherlock. MH_

**_Stop texting Mycroft, if it isn't important. Do. Not. Contact. SH_ **

_Even if something has drastically changed with the doctor? MH_

Fear clutched Sherlock, the chase momentarily forgotten as he reread the message. Quickly, he pressed the call button, the phone only dialling once before Mycroft answered.

"What's happened? What has happened to John?" Sherlock demands anxiously.

 _"Sherlock, you best hope that this was for the best. John, well, john has reverted back to his Soldier persona. If you take much longer then there might not be a John to come home to. Sherlock, even I am worried about him. He was depressed, and then he just reverted. He asked me to send him back to_ _ **war**_ _Sherlock."_ This shocked Sherlock, to hear the underline panic in his elder brother's voice. It had been too long that he heard it.

"I have two snipers left, the one I am after now and Sebastian Moran. Sebastian is John's sniper, I can't – I can't risk it." Sherlock states calmly, his voice rough.

 _"I will keep him close Sherlock. Just make it quick, the world wouldn't be right if we lost Doctor Watson."_ Mycroft states before hanging up.

Sherlock holds back the scream of anger as he clenched the phone in his hand tightly. He needed to finish this now!

* * *

**A/N: Well here is some Sherlock. Like?**

**E**


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